Breakfast was served in the impossibly large and elegant dining room at an equally impossibly large table that could easily seat a hundred guests. Sebastian then gave Ivy a tour of her new home.

There were two sitting rooms on the main floor, each decorated in complementary shades; silver and blue in the east wing; blush rose and cream in the west. A life-size portrait of Sebastian's mother, gracefully beautiful with dark hair and soft gray eyes presided over the fireplace in the rose parlor. In the blue parlor, a portrait of the old earl hung. It was easy to see Sebastian in his father’s countenance, if one looked past the blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. It reflected in the autocratic and yet kindly gleam of his father’s eyes, the regal lift of his chin. And certainly in their features, although Ivy believed her husband to be the more handsome of the two.

A separate corridor veered into a wing containing Sebastian’s study, the library, and a music room. The study was fascinating- a well-organized, masculine space, with files and personal papers neatly stacked in shallow wood bins on the large desk. An enormous globe of Earth, held aloft on an ornate iron axis, stood before a large window. Dominating the wall above the fireplace was a painting of Beaumont from the fifteenth century, depicting the manor before a main portion of the house burned to the ground. Accented by deep green forests and open fields dotted with fluffy sheep, the manor in the painting was quite cozy when compared to its present magnificence.

And the library! Ivy sighed with pleasure, for it was grand and delicious with the prevailing scent of book leather and old paper and lavender. Mahogany bookcases stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling on three walls, and several rolling ladders made it easy to reach the volumes along the top shelves. An ornate fruitwood bar stocked with spirits occupied one corner, and the combined lighting of several sconces and numerous exquisite crystal chandeliers overhead lit the dark wood interior with an amber glow.

"It is so lovely.” Ivy ran a finger along the spines of a row of books on the shelf by her head.

Diffused morning light streamed through a wall of windows overlooking a magnificent four-square rose garden. In the late afternoon, the space would be stunning as sunlight filled it. Ivy made a mental promise to visit. With a crackling fire in the hearth and a pot of hot tea at her elbow, the multiple cranberry hued divans scattered about, it would prove a perfect spot for curling up with a good book. It would be heaven itself.

"I spent a great deal of time in here growing up.” Sebastian followed her, watching intently as she traced the book titles on the spines. "I was never able to read all of them, but I tried.”

Ivy smiled at him over her shoulder. "I would have believed you to be running wild over the countryside instead.”

"I certainly did that. However, my mother required I read at least one book every summer, and I did wish to make her happy.”

"Did you have a favorite author?"

"Shakespeare when my mother was about.” He gave her a wicked wink. “Chaucer when she was not.”

Imagining her husband as boy, hiding his choice of books from his mother, Ivy fought the tug of tenderness to ask briskly, "Where to next? The music room, I think you said?"

He indicated she should walk ahead of him, but as she skirted past, he caught her by the elbow, spinning her around and back up against the bookcase. Sebastian moved with the quickness of a deadly jungle cat.

Ivy’s breath caught in her chest and Sebastian smiled at her surprise. "The music room can wait. I'm afraid I cannot.”

Taking her hands, he raised them high, pinning them against the spines of the books behind her. The edges of the different shelves hit at her shoulders, hips and the back of her knees.

"It’s been damned difficult keeping my hands off you. I’ve reached my limits. For the morning, at least.” His eyes were hot and dark. Lustful.

Before she could answer, his mouth swooped down, his tongue delving to fence with hers, swirling around, leisurely tasting her. And she could not move, not with the weight of his muscular body pushing her against the bookcase. His hands kept hers prisoner while his mouth continued to search and give and take and request until Ivy finally melted.

Sebastian growled. A low, deep sound of want and need. Desire and frustration. Even with the layers of cloth between them, his arousal was evident. An answering spark lit within Ivy, one she wished did not exist. It was dangerous to her sanity. She tried shifting away, but he held her too tight.

"I want you.” Tearing his mouth from hers, Sebastian laid a flaming hopscotch of kisses along the curve of her throat. "I want you as I have never wanted another woman. And God help me, it’s only been one day and already I grow impatient with this waiting. What must I do to have you, Ivy? What must I do to make you want me with the same desperation I feel? I'm mad for you. Utterly and completely insane...but you know this."

His grip shifted, holding her wrists in one hand higher above her head while his other smoothed down her side, skimming the curve of her breast before coming to rest in the indentation of her waist. That light touch tracing her form, through layers of silk and muslin, was scorching.

"You mustn't say such things.” Ivy’s words dissolved into a moan of longing. Her knees wobbled, suddenly incapable of holding her weight.

"Mustn't I?" Sebastian murmured. He pressed sinful kisses pressed to her jawline, drifting along the delicate line of her collarbone revealed by the neckline of her gown until she sucked in a sharp breath. He took great pleasure in seducing her and, shameless creature that she was, she was powerless to stop him.

Finally, he released her, allowing her arms to fall. A flounce of lace along her shoulder was flicked back into place with his index finger. "You win, my dear.” Resignation rumbled in his tone, his eyes dark with challenge. "Shall we continue our tour?”

Bright and airy, the music room was exquisite. Wallpapered in cream on cream satin stripes and accented with dark blue, the woman’s touch it exhibited plucked at Ivy’s heart. It was both feminine and sophisticated at the same time. Another painting of the late countess hung over the fireplace. This one included Sebastian as a dark haired, grey-eyed little boy about the age of five.

“She was so very lovely,” Ivy observed. The artist did a masterful job capturing the merriment in his mother’s eyes as well as the mischief in Sebastian’s. “You were quite the handsome little lord.”

“It is one of my favorite paintings of her.” Sebastian wore a tiny smile as he considered the portrait. “I never saw Mother cross, although I am sure she must have occasionally been. Theirs was an arranged marriage, but she and my father fell in love very quickly. It nearly destroyed him when she passed.”

“How did she die?” Ivy asked gently. Sebastian’s sadness was noticeable although his demeanor remained unchanged. Extremely sensitive to it, she could not stop her hand from finding his.

He squeezed her hand while gazing up at the portrait. “Giving birth to my sister. The babe was stillborn and Mother died a few hours later. I was twelve at the time.”

“I’m so sorry.” Ivy moved closer until she nearly hugged his arm.

“It was difficult for my father, although I suffered her loss with a depth of heartache almost unbearable. You must understand since you lost your own mother at the same age.” Sebastian turned suddenly, taking both of her hands within his, his eyes dark. “The day is too beautiful to dwell on the sadness of the past.” When he smiled, it only took a moment for the light of it to reach his eyes. “Tell me, what do you think of the music room? Does it please you? Would you like to redecorate it, put your own touch on it?”

Sebastian offered the opportunity to change a favored room of his mother’s, and Ivy’s heart swelled. He wished to please her, to help her feel as though at least one room in this enormous place felt like hers, but if she were honest, she would change nothing. The former Countess of Ravenswood and she shared similar tastes. The room was perfect as it was; timeless and graceful, unspoiled by the capriciousness of a society following every decorating fad until the style of a room was a hopeless mishmash of clashing trends.

“I would not change a thing,” she replied and Sebastian nodded in pleasure.

“I’m heartily glad to hear that. I recall our first kiss was in your music room.”

“Yes.” Ivy blushed. “I busted your lip then nearly crippled myself jumping up from the piano. I was so surprised.”

“So was I.”

Ivy tilted her head. “How so? You knew you were going to kiss me.”

“Yes, but I did not know how it would affect me.” He tipped her chin with a finger. “Somewhere within my soul, I knew you were destined to be mine, only I did not realize it then. And now, here we are.”

He brushed her lips lightly with his own, and her eyes fluttered shut. She swayed toward him, but Sebastian abruptly stepped away.

“Play for me. Something cheerful,” he said, moving toward the piano. “When Mother was here, this room was always lively. I’m glad it will once again be filled with music and laughter.”

Ivy gratefully sank down on the bench, her knees weak. When he sat beside her, she began to play the melody from the afternoon when they first kissed. Sebastian’s smile told her he remembered it well and she nearly basked in the glory of his approval.

The ballroom was next. Ivy admired the white and gold gilded plasterwork, the tall, soaring fluted columns circling the highly polished light oak floor. The room could comfortably hold four hundred or more people, the space stretching like an open field. Ten huge crystal chandeliers hung from the high-coffered barrel ceiling and encompassing one wall were glass doors opening to a large terrace overlooking the parterre gardens. A fountain similar to the one in front of the manor occupied the garden center. Decorated in shades of gold, silver and blue, the entire room shimmered with light and richness in a sophisticated, unmistakable display of the earl’s wealth.

"Oh, how exquisite the gardens are,” Ivy exclaimed, crossing to the windows to gaze at the gardens. She fingered the heavy, gold damask of the draperies, admiring the intricate scrolling pattern of dark blue embossed in the fine fabric.

"They should be,” Sebastian said. "A veritable army keep the grounds pristine even though I’m not in residence.”

“It seems a shame not to utilize the beauty in this grand space.”

“There is reason, now that we’ve wed. Come, no one has danced on this floor in almost six years, and longer than that since my mother danced here with my father.” Tugging Ivy to the middle of the ballroom floor, Sebastian executed a courtly bow. “Would you grant me the honor of being the first Countess of Ravenswood to do so in more than sixteen years?"

"There’s no music…" Despite the protest, her hands automatically clutched his shoulders.

"We shall make our own.”

A half memory, perhaps something he witnessed his own parents do once long ago when he was a boy, flashed in Sebastian’s eyes. Placing one hand in the small of her back, he rested it there for a brief second then drew her closer into him.

Sensation, hot and thrilling, shot straight from his hand to Ivy’s very core. Maybe he knew how the simple gesture affected her, but Sebastian only smiled and gathered her, his hands moving to the proper places. Humming the tune of an unknown waltz, he twirled her around the gleaming oak floor with its inlaid swirls and center medallion emblazoned with the Ravenswood crest.

They created a haunting beauty. Anyone peeking in would have been enthralled by it. Ivy’s chestnut curls tumbled to feather the tops of Sebastian's hand resting in the hollow of her back. He cut a dashingly handsome figure in dark brown breeches and a simple white shirt. No pretense existed between them at that moment. No glittering crowd, no witty repartees, no clinking champagne glasses and double innuendos. Best of all, a lack of clever banter and a blessed absence of chatty gossip drifted in their wake as they floated across the ballroom. Only the two of them inhabited that moment and it was simple, perfect and honest.

Ivy hummed the tune with him until it faded and they stood in awkward silence in the cavernous room. Sebastian drew her closer, his arms wrapping completely about her waist. The corner of his lips lifted with a wistful smile. "I shall always remember this.”

Ivy had the impression of being dragged into something warm and encompassing, a safe harbor she could trust if only she allowed herself to do so. "As will I.” Her admission was reluctant but truthful.

"Oh, Ivy. I do love you, you know” His lips touched hers. “Too much for my own sanity, I think.”

Ivy knew he felt her melt, knew he tasted her hesitation as it eased away and she kissed him back. But before, when he might have deepened the kiss, sliding into something darker, more passionate, this time he did not. When she made a longing noise low in her throat, Sebastian again was the one to step away.

Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to it, easing the sting of his retreat. "Little butterfly, we have so many things to explore…”

Ivy tried to gather her wits. Did he refer to something more intimate? She could not seem to think straight, and that was not likely to change if he insisted on kissing her in every room of this huge mansion. But still, she mused, glancing about the ballroom, this, this was her favorite moment of the morning.

Sebastian's expression when he said he loved her caused an odd little pang in her heart. He was destroying her defenses in the most devious of ways. Soon, she would dissolve in a puddle of weak foolishness and then where would she be in this game of cat and mouse?

Ivy mustered up a cool degree of aloofness as they continued through the house and Sebastian frowned in amusement as she skillfully kept herself out of arm’s reach. He knew precisely what she was doing but allowed her to play the little game with a shrug. It was only when they entered the room doubling as both nursery and schoolroom, did her improvised strategy unravel.

A sturdy swinging cradle crafted of smooth rosewood, adorned with a few wispy spider webs, sat in forlorn abandonment in one corner. It was a piece of art, with all its intricate carvings. The crest of the Ravenswood earldom formed the head of the cradle, the split shield containing roses, trailing vines and a raven with widespread wings carved on one side, a long stemmed curved rose in full bloom climbing the other.

"Did you sleep in this as a babe?" Ivy inquired, her fingers trailing over the carvings.

"I did.” Sebastian touched the side of the cradle so that it rocked gently. "So did my father. And his father. And his before him. Whatever previous Cain children slept in was destroyed in the fire. This cradle is still sturdy enough to hold a dozen children, I believe.” When she blushed, his laugh was almost bitter. "Do not fret. I've no intention of burdening you with so many.”

Her head tilted. Of course, he would want children. At least one. Having an heir was necessary and inevitable once they shared a bed as husband and wife. A wave of remorse swept her. Her childish efforts to maintain a distance between them was selfish. Not many husbands would allow such headstrong and foolish behavior. Nor be so patient.

Sebastian had hurt and betrayed her. Truly, she must guard her heart, but the fact remained she was his wife. Her duty was to provide his successor. She gave a vow, before God and witnesses, to be his in every sense of the word. Eventually, she must honor that vow.

Ivy reached for his hand, untangling his fingers where they gripped the side of the cradle. "Half a dozen then.” Her fingers meshed with his, her mouth curving into a smile.

Sebastian blinked. He was silent for a long moment. "There is only one way to ensure such a brood.”

"Yes.” She acknowledged even while holding her breath.

He did not say anything else although his hand closed firmly over hers. Ivy knew he did not miss the slight sway of her body, the little intake of breath as her face tilted to his. A flash of pleased triumph appeared in his gaze.

"Why don't we make our way downstairs for lunch? Then I shall take you to the west gardens. They were my mother's favorite. I think you shall adore them as well.” Sebastian abruptly turned, pulling her toward the nursery’s door.

Frowning at his unexpected defection when she would have willingly allowed him a kiss, Ivy followed him from the dusty nursery in contemplative silence.